


Morning Glory

by newmrsdewinter



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Post-Game, Single Parents, Slice of Life, Survivor Guilt, broken blueberry family tries to repair itself and it doesn't work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newmrsdewinter/pseuds/newmrsdewinter
Summary: After Grima’s defeat, Lucina struggles to find solace in a world where she must raise rambunctious Little Luci when her own parents cannot. What follows is a tale of a sword, a flower, and a mended soul.“Luci, what did I tell you about hitting and screaming?”Her contrite face peeked out to meet him. “Sorry.”“Don’t apologize to me," said Chrom, rolling his eyes. "Apologize to your sister."“Sorry, Lucina.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my magnum opus, my favorite fanfic that I have ever written. I don't think I can write anything else that can top this. This version of Morning Glory is different than what was in the Anthology because I am editing freak and I can't leave shit alone after it's been published. So there is an additional scene and a couple (a lot) of changed lines. 
> 
> This story is totally complete! Please enjoy :D
> 
> Written for @ingrimasname Brave New World Anthology in 2016

The sweeping melodies of a symphony grated on Lucina’s nerves in the ballroom. As the night wore on, she felt her face stiffen to a freeze as her fake smile gradually lost its effect on the royals she was meant to impress.

“This champagne tastes like ass,” muttered Severa. “Here, have a sip.” She shoved the flute under Lucina’s nose, but it was pushed away. “Gawds, Lucina. Would it kill you to pretend to enjoy yourself?”

Lucina’s mind was miles away. “Severa, did you say something?”

Severa rolled her eyes. She snapped her fingers at a waiter to hand her another champagne flute. She downed it in one shot and pulled a sour face. “Yup. Tastes like ass.”

As the symphony struck up a slow and purposeful waltz, a ring of dancers waltzed on a marble dance floor beneath a canopy of crystal chandeliers. Lucina broke into a cold sweat, quietly excusing herself from the dais for a breath of air.

“Lucina? What, you’re just gonna leave? Hey, wait!”

She fled the ballroom before Severa could finish voicing a protest, not pausing until she felt a rush of cool air wash over her face. The gardens were blissfully silent, a balm against the relentless chatter from the ballroom. She hid behind the wall, totally hidden from view save for a silver slant of moonlight peeking behind the arc of a fountain.

Lucina felt weight of two worlds settle nicely at the tips of her shoulders. One world was lost to Grima and the other, well. Grima was lost to the world she received in return, but sticks and stones couldn’t quantify the cost. She slumped against the wall, sliding to the ground and burying her face between her arms.

Her body shuddered with quiet sobs.

At Chrom’s coronation ceremony, there was an empty chair in Naga’s cathedral, an open seat at her father’s right hand reserved for her mother. Once Chrom was officially crowned, Frederick flanked his left when he stood to address the people and his right was empty. The gesture disturbed her more than watching Robin fade into the aether.

Two tiny fists beat relentlessly at her arm and yanked her hair. “Wake up! Wake up!”

Startled, Lucina sniffled and winked an eye open. A miniature version of herself giggled and toddled behind a nearby column. Luci’s bow was askew. She squeaked when she heard her father’s footsteps lumbering after her.

“Luci, what did I tell you about hitting and screaming?”

Her contrite face peeked out to meet him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your sister.”

“Sorry, Lu-cee-na.”

Sighing, Chrom scooped Luci into his arms. His face was quickly concealed by the flounce of tulle from her stiff ball gown. Giggling, Luci issued a loud gale of laughter when he tossed her lightly in the air. “That’s my girl.”

Lucina swiped her eyes in a fruitless attempt to regain her composure. The tears had subsided, but her eyes were still bloodshot. She felt the added weight of Chrom’s weariness seep into the silence that followed.

“She _will_ come back, Lucina.” Chrom sat next to her on the ground and pulled Luci onto his lap.

“Everything I did was to prevent _you_ from dying,” said Lucina, her words punctuated by short, heaving gasps. “I never thought, never imagined that I’d lose Mother -”

“I know as well as any that things hardly ever go as planned. She...she told me she would think of something else. Before the battle. Lucina, I’m sorry. I should have done something to stop her.”

The look Chrom got was so full of vehemence that he was genuinely taken aback.

 _“No,”_ said Lucina hollowly. “It had to end, I never thought it had to be that way –“ Her voice caught in her throat.

Carefully, as though he were coaxing a wounded animal, Chrom snaked an arm around Lucina’s shoulders and pulled her close, muffling her cries into his shoulder. He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Luci blinked at the grieving Exalts, confused. She took the only appropriate course of action within the understanding of a five-year-old.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Chrom on the cheek. After some thought, she patted Lucina on the head. “No crying!”

Lucina didn’t respond. So she hit harder.

_Thwack!_

“No more crying!”

_Thwack!_

“NO CRYING!”

_Thwack!_

“Daddy, stoppit!”

Chrom restrained Luci’s flailing arms and hoisted her by the shoulders to meet her eye-to-eye. “Young lady, that is _not_ how you comfort your sister,” he said sternly. Luci puffed her cheeks in annoyance.

But it had the desired effect. Lucina gave a watery chuckle and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Luci’s ear. “I’m her sister now?”

Chrom shrugged sheepishly. “It’s what Frederick suggested to avoid confusion.”

“Oh,” said Lucina, lifting a brow. “Is that wise?”

“To be honest, I have no idea. I never thought I’d be raising two versions of the same daughter.”

“Daddy, I’m bored,” whined Luci. “I want fruit punch.”

“Lucina will get some for you,” he said patiently. He ushered his daughters back to the ballroom, but hesitated when he saw Lucina balk. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes, cupping her cheeks with both his hands.

“I know you want to leave.”

Her stomach dropped. “I’m sorry, but it’s not right for me to linger, especially now that –“

“I ask that you stay. Stay for a while and help me raise Luci.”

For the briefest moment, Chrom looked less like the noble exalt he was meant to be and more like a grieving father wearing a paper crown. It was deeply unsettling. To punctuate his point, Luci tugged her dress to be held and Lucina complied, picking her up and holding her close.

Even so, a tiny seed of doubt began to sprout in her mind. Her province of expertise lay on the battlefield. She could be a soldier, yes, but a loving sister? Her experiences with Falchion and Morgan already proved otherwise.

“I’m not asking you to put your sword down,” pleaded Chrom gently. “I can’t raise her on my own, not without your mother and Morgan.”

Lucina closed her eyes. “Alright.”

His shoulders slumped with relief. “Tomorrow, I have a state council with my advisers and Frederick is –“

“Lu-cee-na, I want fruit punch _now_.” Luci grabbed a hank of Lucina’s hair out of its elegant knot and pulled.

“Hey, that hurts!”

Chrom extricated her little fingers from Lucina’s hair and sighed. “I think it’s bedtime.”

“Noooo!”

“Will you promise to behave for the rest of the night?”

“Oh, _fine_.” Her head clonked against Lucina’s shoulder with pronounced resignation.

Lucina threw Chrom a faint look of distress. “You’ll get used to it,” he reassured her. “She just needs a nudge in the right direction when she’s being a grump.”

With a small sigh, she shifted Luci’s weight on her hip and her hand hit something rough beneath her stockings. “Is that a bandage?” Lucina lifted Luci’s skirt to take a closer look. “Did you get hurt?”

“Let’s go inside,” said Chrom, ushering them into the hall. “No use in ditching a party thrown just for us, right?” He tried to come off as nonplussed as possible, but it made his unease all the more apparent. Lucina raised a brow, but said nothing.

The crowd parted for them when they entered the ballroom. A sea of skirts swept a chorus of rustles on the marble floor as the royal family made a beeline towards the punch bowl.

Chrom was intercepted by a line of royals preening for his attention and Lucina watched him leave feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

Luci’s punch sloshed to the floor when she jumped to wave at Owain. “O- _wain!”_

“Luci, when you hold your drink, please make sure it’s upright –“

She blinked owlishly. “Like this?” She tipped her cup and spilled the rest down her front.

Lucina groaned.

But she was quickly drowned out. Owain swept across the ballroom and called back in a decorous voice, “Hark, Lucina of the Exalted Eye! Most divine cousin of my kin, long have I labored the trials of tedious merrymake to traverse this treacherous terrain of true – WHOAAAAAARRRRRRGH!”

The floor was slick with punch and Owain slipped like an ice skater. He seized the tablecloth to steady himself and the punch bowl came crashing down with him, crystals shattering to pieces with a resounding smash. He tumbled atop Lucina and elicited an unholy screech of terror once he hit the floor.

Heads turned. Luci wailed. The room was abuzz with whispers and gasps of shock. A few women shrieked, mistaking the punch for blood. Lucina thought she heard Gaius hooting with laughter on the other side of the room.

Once she was sure the chaos was over, Owain scampered off her and licked the punch off his fingers. “So, uh. How’s this fine, fair evening treating you so far?”

She facepalmed.

 

* * *

 

That night became notorious in family history as the Royal Fruit Punch Debacle, much to Frederick’s distaste and Chrom’s delight.

It was also the night Owain discovered the unsung power of alliteration.

At the breakfast table the next morning, Owain gurgled his mouth with orange juice and said with pronounced effort, “Most meticulous monk of the moistened eye, must you maneuver the –“

“- Yeah, yeah, yeah, pass the mustard,” grumbled Brady. He pushed the pot in Owain’s direction and stuffed an entire fried egg in his mouth. Yolk dribbled down the side of his mouth when he gagged. “Damnit! That shit’s hot!”

“Brusque brigand of boisterous ebullience! Brady, I almost had that one and you ruined it!”

“I ain’t ebullient and that last one don’t count as alliteration. It’s more like consonance, if ya ask me.”

“I didn’t,” said Owain peevishly. “And besides –“

The act vanished the moment Chrom entered the room. “Good morning,” he said pleasantly, tucking a sheaf of papers under his arm. “Did everyone sleep well?”

Owain jumped out of his seat and bowed to a low crouch at Chrom’s feet. “Uncle Chrom, I am so sorry about last night, Mother said you’d hang me by my toes in the dungeons if I didn’t –“

To his absolute relief, Chrom waved him off with a good-natured laugh. “It was an accident. Didn’t I say you had nothing to worry about? You agreed to my favor.”

Late at night after the last drops of punch were mopped away, Chrom had the grace to let Owain off the hook, but he had a single caveat and he didn’t say what it was.

“Yes, speaking of which, I was wondering what you had in mind –“

Owain was interrupted mid sentence when his mouth was clamped shut by a tiny pair of hands.

“Hush,” said Luci. She was followed by a small army of handmaids and Lucina, who sported heavy dark circles under her eyes.

“He’s too loud!” whined Luci in a shrill voice. “He needs to use indoor voices.”

Chrom lifted her onto her high seat and she counted the blueberries he set before her on a plate. “One, two, twee...”

“Yes, about that favor,” said Chrom. He piled a small mountain of bacon on his plate. “Lissa mentioned that you wanted to join the Kingsguard.”

Owain sucked in a reverent gasp. “Uncle Chrom, I am _most_ honored. But nepotism is unfair to the knights with years of experience above the petty skirmishes from my ruined future –“

“Unfortunately, all the slots have already been taken.”

Owain deflated instantly.

Chrom noted his disappointment with a hearty laugh. “But I think I can make some space for another hopeful.”

And Owain perked up like a lost puppy. “Really?”

“...fiftee-nine, twenty-twee, thirtee-eight...”

“Not for the Kingsguard, but for something else.”

“...twelve, ninety-eight, fifteen...” Luci popped a blueberry in her mouth and swung her legs over her chair.

“Like what?” Owain exchanged a look with Brady, who shrugged in response. “I’m not sure what you mean. There’s only the Shepherds and the Kingsguard –“

“ and the Princessguard,” said Chrom smoothly. He smiled at his own little joke.

“What?”

“The Princessguard,” repeated Chrom with absolute seriousness. “Luci needs protection, something more than what her maids can provide outside of the castle. I think you’re the right man for the job. In fact, I think you’re the _only_ man for the job.”

For the first time in recent memory, Owain was rendered absolutely speechless.

Chrom took this response as a sign of agreement. “Then it’s settled.” He slammed his hand on the tabletop. “That’s my first decree as Exalt. I hereby appoint Owain as the captain of Princess Luci’s Royal Guard. Isn’t that right, Luci?”

“Daddy, I’m done eating.” She wormed her way out of the high seat, but Chrom held her down and strapped her in. He ruffled her head.

“Lucina, what are your plans for today?”

“I’m taking Luci to the marketplace to see the goods and –“

But Brady couldn’t contain his chortles any longer. He spat his orange juice and keeled over with heaving gasps of laughter. “Princessguard? Oh my gods, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in my life.”

“It was Frederick’s idea, actually,” said Chrom. “He wanted to captain it himself, but I told him Owain needed the experience. You need to start somewhere, you know.”

Owain was unusually quiet during this whole exchange. He stood abruptly, upsetting the cutlery on the table. He marched over to Luci’s high chair and got down on one knee.

“I solemnly swear on pain of death that I shall endeavor to keep your life safe, my princess,” he said reverently. He took Luci’s hand and kissed it.

“Owain’s silly again, Daddy.”

“On the contrary!” Owain stood and clasped his sword hand to his chest. “I have never been more serious in my entire life. Come rain or shine or death divine, the light of your life is safe in my capable hands! This, I swear!”

Brady honked his nose rather violently into his handkerchief. “That was beautiful,” he sniffed. He wiped a tear from his eye. “Nice.”

“I gather you kids know what you’re doing for the rest of the day, right?” asked Chrom. He stood and gathered his papers. “Lucina and Owain are taking Luci to the marketplace and Brady can come too, if he’d like.”

Now Brady flushed from head to toe. “Can’t,” he mumbled. “Ma lost that lil’ umbrella of hers at the party and she’ll have a conniption if I don’t find it...”

Chrom raised a hand in farewell and swept out of the hall.

“Owain, lemme go!” Luci wormed her hand out of Owain’s vice-like grip and kicked him away with her foot.

Lucina glanced at her watch. “We should leave before it gets too crowded.”

Brady stood to clear his plate. “Y’know, ya would’ve thought Cynthia’d be the one who’d take a fall like that at the party.”

“Some good came of it,” insisted Owain. “Alliterations, for one. And the captaincy too.”

A captaincy of a toddler far too preoccupied with stuffing blueberries up her nose to care.

“What’s next, a cliff jump and limericks?” asked Brady, stifling a chortle. _“There was once a dweeb from Ylisse, who tripped to the floor on his knees...”_

“Salacious serpent of snuffed-up sinuses, go royally screw yourself.”

“I think that one’s my favorite.”

“Oh, shut up.”

 

* * *

 

The marketplace bustled with activity the afternoon after the coronation. The Saturday crowd mostly consisted of portly merchants flaunting their wares and mothers taking their restless children out for a day trip. Dozens of stalls had been erected along the cobbled streets for the coronation, and spirits were still high from the festivities the night before.

“Luci, can you walk on your own?” asked Lucina. She wanted to shield her eyes from the sun, but her arms were full. They ached from carrying Luci around the market.

“Nope!” chirped Luci. She ignored her sister’s discomfort. “What’s that?”

A long line of colorful parasols on display caught her attention. “Those are parasols,” said Lucina. “See? You use them to protect yourself from the sun.” Owain opened one with a grand flourish, but it went unnoticed.

Luci lost interest. “Lu-cee-na, I don’t like it here,” she said, scrunching her nose. “It smells icky.”

Wisps of Plegian incense and camphor wafted from a parked caravan and she buried her face into Lucina’s shoulder.

Owain’s hand twitched on the hilt of his killing edge. “Well! Little Princess, will you lead the way?”

Luci scampered out of Lucina’s arms and hopped to the ground. She dismissed the cramped stalls boasting ripe fruit and the sizzle of meat from the vendors lining the street. Instead, she turned her eyes to the clouds.

A butterfly fluttered in the air and weaved its way through the stalls. Luci watched, entranced.

They made quite a conspicuous trio in the marketplace, with Lucina and Owain armed to the teeth and Luci decked out in Ylissean finery. She refused point-blank to wear the plain tunic that the maids had lent her. Owain insisted that they let their hair down over their eyes to conceal their brands, but it hardly mattered anyway. Blue hair wasn't exactly common among the smallfolk.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I should have known Uncle Chrom had something nefariously devious up his sleeve, but I never imagined it’d be as boring as this.”

Lucina lifted a brow. “The Kingsguard isn’t exactly exhilarating either.”

“Ha!” exclaimed Owain with muted delight. “My alliterations are catching.”

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Have you seen my father’s guards? All they do is follow him around the castle.”

“Yes, for critically important matters of state, not taking midday strolls through the market. By the way, how goes this quest of sisterly bonding?”

They wandered towards the fountain bubbling in the middle of the square and took a seat on the lip.

“I have no idea. She seems to like ordering me around and she let me brush her hair this morning.”

“But...?”

“I think she's afraid of Falchion.”

“Really! That is most unusual.”

“Her handmaids wouldn't allow me in her chambers this morning with my regalia, which I suppose is quite reasonable. She won’t even approach father when he’s wearing it.”

“Which is why you've opted for a rapier instead of the Exalted sword.”

“Precisely.”

“See, I notice these kinds of things. Huh! I wonder how she feels about tomes or lances.”

Although this was quite worrying, Lucina wondered if little Luci’s aversion to Falchion had its roots in the reasons why Morgan refused acknowledge the sword.

When she pressured her brother to test his might against Falchion’s, her insistence was born out of the fear that the Grima would claim her future once more. But Morgan was quite powerful in his own right and her concerns were unfounded.

Luci would inherit the Exalted sword in the future, and she needed to show initiative so that Falchion could deem her worthy to protect Ylisse when she was crowned Exalt.

“I saw some raspberry tarts in a stall near the castle,” said Owain. “Shall we make a purchase and call it a day?”

Lucina’s back was slick with sweat. “Yes, I’m ready to go home.”

“Good! Show yourself, Diminutive Exalted Princess! Most toothsome of culinary delights awaits us!” But Owain spoke to the air.

Molten panic swooped in Lucina’s stomach. “Where is she?”

They whipped on their heels to scan the teeming crowd, but Luci was nowhere in sight.

 

* * *

 

The butterfly seemed perpetually suspended from arm’s reach. Well, grownup arms, at least. Luci’s surroundings were a pleasant blur as she skipped into puddle after puddle in dogged pursuit. Its wings were lined a rich, ebony black and small dots of color were caught in its inky pools like the stained glass in Naga’s cathedral.

In Luci’s humble opinion, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“I....gotcha!” Luci bounced forward and stretched her arms aloft, but her fingertips barely skimmed the edge of the butterfly’s wings. “Crackers!” She crossed her arms and stomped her foot.

By now, the butterfly had already flown over the rooftops of the shantytown and above into the aether.

Luci stood in a mud puddle. She lifted her foot and it came out with a disgusting squelch. “Yuck.” With a faint huff of displeasure, Luci tugged her dress and was suddenly aware of how uncomfortable she felt.

There was a run in her stockings. Her bandage was itchy. Her stomach growled. And she didn’t know where she was. Gone were the colorful fabric roofings from the vendors in the marketplace, the fine cobbling underfoot and the yeasty stench from the baker in the square.

Grimy, unfamiliar faces regarded her with noticeable curiosity and emerged from the crude shacks lining the muddied street. She was keenly aware of a single pair of eyes boring into her back. She whimpered.

“Little Miss, are you lost?” asked a stranger. A man with a crutch was the first brave soul to approach her. He looked ancient, but upon closer inspection, he didn’t seem much older than father.

She stood rooted to the spot. “I...I...dunno...”

“You’re from the castle, aren’t you? Ah, let’s see if we can find someone to take you back.”

Luci looked down and nearly fainted. A dirty bandage poked out of where his foot should have been. It was gone.

She screamed.

“Luci!” Two pairs of familiar footsteps sprinted towards her, panting for breath and looking thoroughly winded.

Now Luci began to cry in earnest, scaring the daylights out of everyone in the vicinity.

“Good sir, I take it that there’s no trouble here?” Owain’s eyes were kind, but his hand kept a safe distance over the pommel of his sword.

“None! None at all! Please, I meant no harm -”

“Fear not, altruistic soul! You have done Ylisse a great kindness this hallowed evening.” Owain pressed a pouch of coins into his shaking hands.

Meanwhile, Luci all but leaped into Lucina’s open arms and clung to her like ivy to a wall. She trembled.

Was Lucina going to yell? Certainly she was cross, most grown-ups were cross when she misbehaved. Even father yelled when she pulled his hair or drew flowers on his important papers.

No - Lucina took her into her arms without a harsh rebuke and kissed her, holding her close to her heart. “I thought you were lost forever,” she said. “Luci, promise me you’ll never stay out of my sight again!”

An earsplitting screech was the only response she had the mind to give, but Lucina understood. She nodded all the same.

On the long walk back to the castle, Luci chewed on a raspberry tart and clutched a stuffed rabbit. Lucina bought it in a secondhand stall in the shantytown and Owain said there was magic in a toy loved by another child, so she held it very dear to her heart.

He whistled a merry tune down the lane and Lucina rubbed soothing circles on her back.

All was well.

 

* * *

 

Lucina was certain she shed at least five years of her life while searching for Luci in the market. Picking up her trail was a miraculous stroke of luck, one largely thanks to Owain’s keen sense of intrigue. The shopkeepers they interrogated could hardly refuse to help a prince sprouting alliterations in their faces.

Three weeks later, Luci squirmed in Lucina’s lap while she brushed her hair.

“Lu-cee-na, you’re hurting me!” she whined.

“It won’t hurt if you sit still!” grunted Lucina. She waged a losing battle with hair pins as she navigated the mess of tangled knots in Luci’s hair. Once it came loose, Lucina braided her hair into an intricate plait.

“How come that man had no foot?”

The question was asked so nonchalantly, so out of the blue that Lucina was genuinely confused. “What man? Did someone hurt you?”

Luci shook her head, effectively ruining the braid Lucina completed. She sighed and started anew. “The old man from the market. The day you buyed me Mister Bun.” The stuffed rabbit, now immaculately cleaned and dressed in a knitted pink waistcoat, was held in the crook of Luci’s elbow.

“The day I _bought_ you Mister Bun,” corrected Lucina.

“‘That’s what I said,” she grumbled. “The day you buyed me Mister Bun.”

“Luci, you said it incorrectly. What I meant was...”

This continued until Luci caught the end of her train of thought. “You didn’t answer my question! Why did that man lose his foot?”

“Well,” began Lucina. She wasn’t entirely sure how to address this topic. “He must have been a soldier who fought in the war and he lost his foot to protect Ylisse.”

“Then how come he’s not living with all the other soldiers?”

“Because...he’s injured. He can’t fight to protect father if he’s missing a foot, right?”

“Does he need my help?”

“What?”

From this angle, Luci’s wide, doe eyes seemed to take up half her face. She tilted her head back and peered at Lucina with genuine concern. “I said, does he need my help?” Luci turned on her knees to meet Lucina face-to-face in her lap. “Big sis, are your ears broken today?”

“Luci, I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help him, at least not yet.”

“Huh? Why not?” she demanded.

“When you’re as old as me, you’ll be strong enough to wield the Falchion, the divine sword Father uses to defend Ylisse -”

“Hazel, I'm hungry!” Luci hopped off Lucina’s lap and pawed at the skirts of her handmaiden.

Lucina sighed and cleared the mess of hair pins and brushes on Luci’s bed. That would mark the second battle she lost on Falchion’s behalf. The first involved Mister Bun.

_Once Luci was safely tucked in bed, she snuggled against Lucina and poked her in the ribs. “Big sis, I dunno what to name him.”_

_“Name who?” she asked sleepily._

_“My bunny!” She flung it in Lucina’s face._

_Lucina hummed. “Well...what about Falchion? A cute bunny would surely draw its strength from so noble a name.”_

_If a toddler could scoff, then Luci wrinkled her nose in an uncanny imitation of Aunt Maribelle’s signature sneer. “No, that’s an ugly name and I don’t like it.”_

_“Alright, Luci,” murmured Lucina, conceding defeat. She closed her eyes. “Then what do you suggest? What about Falcon?”_

_“Falcons eat bunnies. I wanna name him Yarne.”_

_“No, that’s not a good idea.”_

_“Then...Mister Bun,” she decided. “Freddie’s gonna knit him a jacket...and I’m gonna trim his ears and...he’s gonna have five...” She nodded off to sleep before she could finish her thought._

Lucina’s motives were twofold: One, caring for Mister Bun would give Luci a real sense of what it’s like to guard one of Ylisse’s royal treasures. Two, naming him Falchion would have helped her overcome her fear of the sword.

Although, she had to note the supreme irony that Falchion would have to prove its worth to Little Luci before she could deign to acknowledge that it even existed. She liked to pretend that it didn’t.

Of course, it would have been better if she could care for something alive, but there were a few obstacles in Lucina’s path that prevented this from happening. Chrom was allergic to cats and Frederick had the strangest aversion to rabbits and dogs, especially large ones. Mice and birds were out of the question since they’d inevitably wind up in one of Aunt Tharja’s questionable experiments.

A stuffed rabbit would have to suffice for the time being.

 

* * *

 

The afternoon found Lucina hacking away at a practice dummy while Owain made towers of blocks with Luci.

The squeals of laughter ringing from the adjacent room sounded oddly dissonant with the sharp twang of steel against the pell. With grand, sweeping motions, Owain proclaimed his dying words as Lucina’s small tower came crashing on his chest.

Lucina set down her sword and wondered why she felt envious at all.

Once Falchion was sheathed away, Luci approached her with a tentative step. “Big sis? Can you play with me now?” The handle of a teacup peeked out of where Luci hid it behind her back.

Lucina glanced at the bunny left forgotten on the floor. “Of course, but what about Mister Bun? Wouldn’t he like to join us as well?”

“He’s taking a nap.”

“A nap? On the ground?”

“Auntie Lissa says it's good to play in dirt and build immoonity.”

“Luci, it’s ‘immunity’ and Aunt Lissa meant -“

Lissa’s head poked out of the medicine closet. “What did I say this time?”

This momentary distraction was enough time for Luci to flee from the barracks without a backwards glance.

“Luci, wait! I thought you wanted to play!” Lucina trailed off and Lissa patted her sympathetically, steering her towards the kitchens for a chat.

“That probably wasn't the best advice to give a toddler,” sighed Lissa. “Me and my big mouth.” She eased herself into a chair and swung her swollen feet over the ground. She was heavily pregnant.

“At least she's doing it through the bunny instead of bathing in mud like I did as a child.”

“I did that too,” said Lissa, smiling at the memory. “Owain tells me you’re on a quest to stay Luci’s sword hand.”

Lucina choked on her tea. “Not exactly,” she coughed.

“Does Mister Bun have anything to do with it?”

“I’m afraid it’s not working as well as I expected. I hoped she’d treat him like a pet, but I suppose he’s just a stuffed bunny to her, even if she thinks he has a will of his own.”

Lissa snickered. “Well, what about a plant? Have her grow some seeds in the gardens and see where it takes her. Honestly, it’s gotta be more effective than that ratty bunny she’s been toting around. I think Sumia might have some morning glory packets lying around somewhere.”

Moments later, Frederick clanked into the barracks with a scowl marring his handsome face. He held a pouting Luci with one arm and dragged Owain by the scruffs with the other.

“I found this one making mud pies in the gardens and this one raising a holy terror in the chicken coop.” The two troublemakers hung their heads in shame.

“What? Then why’s Owain’s shirt all dirty?” demanded Lissa. She plucked him by the ear, eyes narrowed for an explanation and he shrunk sheepishly.

“Actually, I was the one making mud pies - Ow! Mother, that hurts -!” Lissa roughly shoved his head to the side, scowling at his immaturity.

Luci took cover behind Lucina’s leg. “I just wanna make friends with the chickens!”

“With all due respect milady, the chickens would sooner become afternoon luncheon than befriend their predators. ‘Tis not the way of the food chain, I'm afraid.”

Lucina gave her bottom a light push forward. “What do you have to say to Sir Frederick?”

“Thank you for knitting Mister Bun’s waistcoat.”

Lucina made a conscious effort not to break character. “Wrong, Luci.”

“Sorry,” said Luci, scuffing her shoes on the floor. “Are you gonna punish me?”

“Oh, I have something in mind,” said Lucina teasingly. “Some manual labor, perhaps. Depends on how good a certain someone promises to be for the rest of the night.”

“What!” squeaked Luci. Her hands flew to her mouth. “I said sorry!”

“Frederick, are there any empty plots of land in the gardens?”

“Yes, why?”

“I want to plant some flowers.”

 

* * *

 

Luci huffed as she hauled a watering can across the pebbled trail. “You _are_ punishing me and that’s mean, and I’m gonna tell on you.”

“Go right ahead,” said Lucina pleasantly. “I’m sure Father will be very upset by a few flowers in the royal gardens.”

“How dare you!”

Smirking, Frederick said with ill-concealed humor, “Young miss, you are bound to do as your lord father tells you, you do as your sister tells you, and so long as she permits me, you will do as I tell you. Is that clear?”

“No, it’s wyvern droppings and I don’t like it.”

“You’re not meant to. Now keep up!” Luci groaned and dragged her feet.

Once Frederick procured the seeds, shovel, and trellis, Lucina dug a shallow hole in the ground. Luci gasped, “I wanna try!”

“I thought so,” said Lucina. “Dig a small row here and I’ll show you how to plant the seeds when you’re done.”

“What’re we planting?”

“Morning glories. They’re the same color as your hair.”

When she finished, Lucina tapped the seed packet onto Luci’s open palm. “Poke them into the holes and cover them with soil, okay?”

As Luci skipped up and down the strip of soil, Frederick regarded Lucina with a rare smile. “You’re doing a wonderful job.”

“Truly? I’m happy to have your approval.”

“Of course. You are your father’s daughter. I’d expect nothing less.”

“Where is he, by the way?”

“Plegia, for a summit with the new king.”

“Is Morgan with him?”

“That I do not know,” said Frederick slowly. “Last I heard, he was in Ferox, but I do believe he planned to meet your father in Plegia.”

“Big sis? I’m done.” Luci’s entire front was soiled with dirt. When she wiped her cheek, a stripe of grime streaked across her face. “Now what?”

Frederick’s lip curled in distaste, but Lucina laughed. “Next we water it, but I’ll help you this time.”

When they finished, a short row of soil surrounded a rickety trellis that was leaning against a bird fountain. Luci peered at the soil expectantly. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“When’s it gonna grow?”

“Luci, it’s going to take a few weeks. It’s not going to bud right now.”

“But that’s forever!”

“Not if you’re patient. Come. We’ll be back tomorrow morning to water it.”

“Alright,” she said reluctantly. She threw the plot a wayward glance before toddling away to take a bath.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later, the flowers still hadn’t bloomed. Tiny green seedlings crept up the trellis and there were a few unopened buds among them, but they were still premature.

“Luci, this is normal. Flowers can’t bloom overnight.”

“Well, I’m tired of waiting!” The watering can lay haphazardly on its side, kicked away from the plants and Luci stomped her foot. “Those aren't flowers! Look, they’re weeds!”

Lucina sighed and picked her up, ignoring the cries of protest and rage that immediately ensued. After an especially painful thwack to the neck, she snapped, “What in Naga’s name is the problem this time?”

“You’re wearing that stupid sword again! Put me down!” Luci’s edgy knees dug into Lucina’s chest as she tried to climb onto her shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of hair to steady herself.

“Luci, I’m gonna fall! Don’t pull my hair!” Lucina teetered to the side, hands fumbling to pry Luci off her head while trying to maintain her balance. “Luci!”

“Luci, what are you doing?” asked a tired voice.

“Daddy, she’s manhandling me!” yelled Luci. Her screaming mouth widened to an impossible degree and Chrom cringed at her volume when he plucked her off Lucina’s head.

“I only see one person manhandling another and it’s not your sister, Luci.” He smooched her loudly on the cheek. “Did you miss me?” His eyes flicked towards the Parallel Falchion and he frowned.

She nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “Lucina’s teaching me how to stand and hold things. It’s boring.”

“Luci, I’ve been teaching you the basics of swordplay,” she huffed, scowling.

Chrom sighed and took a seat on a stone bench. “I’m leaving for Ferox tonight and I wanted to see my girls before I go.”

Luci’s bottom lip wobbled. “What!? But you just got back!”

“I have a council meeting before Frederick and I make for the Longfort. I’m late, but I had to see you.” He offered Lucina a weak smile. “Frederick tells me you’re doing splendidly, so I have no worries on your end.”

“Thank you, but -”

“Luci, be good to your sister.” He ruffled her head before he stood. “I’ll be home before spring is over.”

As Luci gazed at his receding figure, it was impossible to decide what was worse, having him leagues away in a foreign country or having him within arm’s reach and not being able being to see him. She felt like a cupcake without sprinkles because nobody wanted her, not even father.

“Come on, Luci. Pull yourself together.” Lucina unbuckled Falchion and pulled her into her lap. She tucked her small head under her chin. “Didn't he say he'll return?”

“I forgot to show him my flowers.” Luci wiped her tears on her sleeve. “He's not gonna see them bloom.”

 

* * *

 

Seven o’clock in the morning was never too early for mischief. In the span of an hour and two scraped knees later, Luci swiped three cookies from the kitchens and one staff from the armory. But she left a trail that only the keenest of eyes could detect.

Luci hid behind a bookshelf.

Owain sidestepped and took cover behind a plant.

Luci stuffed the cookie inside her mouth and darted towards the gardens. She was quick, but Owain was faster. With a deafening war cry, he zoomed past her and skidded to a halt right before her feet.

“Halt! Persnickety princess, present me a password!” He stretched his limbs to cover the open doorway and she ducked underneath his legs. “Whoa, easy there!”

“What did you just call me?”

“I require a password!”

“Is it ‘please?’” she asked in a flat voice.

“Trick question! There isn’t one ‘cause you can’t get through. Hey, is that a staff?

“No,” she said. “I’m not holding anything!” The kneader was the smallest staff in the armory, but the sapphire orb still peeked over the tip of her head when she hid behind her back.

“That is a staff,” said Owain peevishly. “I don’t hail from a family of fabled healers for nothing. What mischief are you making?”

“I need it to help Roger,” she said glumly. “Will you help me? I’m too scared to ask Lucina and Auntie Lissa.”

This was a treacherous province best left to someone with a delicate sensibility, namely, anyone other than Owain. “Uh,” he said. “Who’s Roger?”

“My friend.”

Now this was familiar territory. “Ah, I see! An imaginary friend!”

“No,” she said, scowling. “He’s real, and he lives in the garden. I’m _his_ imaginary friend.”

“Huh?”

Across the hall, Lucina glided down the staircase looking very distressed. “Luci, the whole castle’s in an uproar looking for you!”

Startled, Luci bolted upright at the sound of her voice. Her lip wobbled and she ran forward, clinging to Lucina’s leg with a guilty pout.

She saw the staff clutched in Luci’s hand and softened. “Luci, that’s not going to work on plants,” she said gently. “Healing magic can save lives, but it cannot emit life. Why are you covered in crumbs?”

“I got hungry,” she said guiltily. She took a bitten cookie out of her pocket and shoved it under Lucina’s nose. “Want some?”

The seneschal and the maids were in a panic over the missing princess, but Lucina decided that they could wait a little longer. “Let’s take a turn about the gardens. I think you’ll be surprised by what you see.” She took Luci’s hand and steered her towards the pebbled trail.

At the end of the path, Luci tugged Lucina’s sleeve and sucked in a sharp gasp. “Look!”

From a distance, tiny bursts of purple hung from the wooden trellis. Vines crept and weaved through the narrow slats of wood and wound up the base of the bird fountain. But as they got closer, Lucina’s face fell.

“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “Oh, they haven’t bloomed Luci, I’m sorry.”

But she went unheard. Luci’s eyes grew wide with wonder at the twisted bud. The petals swirled like striped candy and brilliant shades of royal blue peeked above its white stem. A multitude of these buds peppered the trellis. To her absolute delight, a few had already started to unfurl. Luci reached to touch a crinkled petal, but shied away, afraid that she might bruise it.

“I’m so happy for Roger,” she said, sniffling with joy. “I can’t believe it.”

Lucina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Seeing him bloom doesn’t mean you stop taking care of him. Did you bring your clippers?”

Nodding, Luci took the clippers out of her pinafore. She snipped away the brown vines, flicking away the aphids crawling under the leaves with a quiet vengeance. Her little brow furrowed in concentration.

Lucina felt her heart swell with pride. To say that the flowers’ upkeep was Luci’s sole effort was an understatement - she was nurturing to a fault.

On the surface, Lucina felt supremely pleased with the outcome of her little experiment. But there was still a striking contrast between growing flowers and training for Falchion. Watching Luci care for the life blooming at her feet so she could mete death with the same hands - the thought unsettled her. It seemed almost wrong.

When Luci finished, she took a pail tucked behind the bird fountain and filled it with water. “Roger’s thirsty. There’s yellow on his leaves. Is he talking to me?”

“Aunt Sumia says that flowers have their own language,” said Lucina absently. “Morning glories mean ephemerality and unrequited love”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out when you’re older.”

“I’m gonna be really smart when I’m old,” she complained. “No one ever tells me anything!”

“Mmmm,” said Lucina. The soothing balm of coffee and eggs wafted from an open window. Once they reached the castle, they were assaulted by shrieks of terror from the maids.

They were covered in dirt and they liked it.

 

* * *

 

According to the castle's help, Robin was fascinated by bees.

Or at least that's what Frederick had always maintained. When Lucina moved to Ylisstol after the war, the first thing she noticed was the flurry of energy in the royal gardens. The air was alive with the buzz from the bees pollinating the flowers.

Later exploration revealed that there was an apiary situated behind the vegetable plots past the kitchens, far removed from the castle's vicinity. The hives sat in front of rows of sunflowers in squat square boxes. Each narrow slat of wood teemed with an angry swarm of bees.

Lucina was never particularly fond of bees, but it didn't take her long to realize that one could learn a lot about the Ylissean court by observing them. That was probably what drew her mother to the hives, so much so that Chrom had built her a glass enclosure and a writing desk in the gardens just so she could watch them.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise. Robin always found a reason to justify her eccentric tastes, even if she was dead. In the gardens, Lucina mulled over this new information as she took a large bite of her peach. She tilted her head so that the juice could dribble down her chin without staining her silk dress.

"What're you planting, Luci?"

Luci was also absorbed in her own contemplations. She ran her trowel down the soil and plopped some seeds into the shallow ruts. "Huh?"

"What are you planting?"

"Peonies and daisies. Ser Stahl says he has cuttings for scotch roses and he's gonna make someone transplant them here."

"That's a big word, Luci."

"I know," she said proudly. "I learned it from the flower book."

The dusty grimoire had a designated spot on Luci's nightstand, a far cry from the dainty fairy tales and picture books she left lying around in her room. She loved all of her books equally, but the flower book was the one she reached for the most even though it didn’t have many pictures.

"Big sis, can we go to the seashore when it's summer? I wanna put clamshells around the flowers when they bloom." While she spoke, a honeybee circled around her arm where she plucked weeds from her flower bed.

"Ew." She swatted it away with her hand. It buzzed in retaliation, flitting around in frenzied circles. Once it landed above her ear, she unleashed an ear-splitting screech. "Lucina, kill it!"

"Luci, bees are endangered -"

"JUST - KILL - IT!" She couldn't run because she might trample her flowers, so she hopped in circles around her plot, covering her ears and screeching her head off. It wasn't very effective. "IT'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"

Lucina swatted the bee uselessly with her hands and missed. It flew out of reach and zoomed towards Luci's hiding spot behind the bird fountain. She still hadn’t stopped screaming. Lucina lunged forward and missed again.

With a loud, triumphant buzz, the bee planted its stinger square in Luci's arm and drifted dead to the ground. Luci stiffened and began to hyperventilate, "LUCINA, IT HURTS, HELP ME, PLEASE!"

"Okay, okay! Just calm down!" Lucina shrieked. "Just stay calm!" She stooped down to pluck the stinger out of her arm. Luci shrieked with terror when she saw the sharp barb leave her skin, more traumatized by the sight of it than the pain lancing up her arm.

"Luci, are you dizzy? Are you having trouble breathing?"

"I hate bees! I hate them! I hope they die!" she cried viciously. She kicked her trowel and punched the air. "I'll kill them all with a rock!'

No allergic reaction, then. She seemed perfectly normal aside from the red swelling on her arm.

Thankfully, Lon’qu heard the commotion before the Royal Guard could go up in arms. "What happened," he asked. He carried a pail with him and poured some water over Luci’s arm, rubbing it with some soap from his pocket.

“A bee stung me,” said Luci, wiping her tears. “I need to go to the infirmary, where I might die.”

Lon’qu’s lips pinched into a line, almost like he was trying to hide his smile. “Your mother liked bees. She kept a hive after married your father. Did you know?”

Luci quietly watched him slather calamine lotion on her arm. "Did mummy ever get stung?"

He grunted. "Countless times. She never wore a hat because it would flatten her hair.”

"I feel better, but it still hurts," said Luci forlornly. "Here, kiss it." She shoved her arm in Lucina's face.

Lon’qu regarded Lucina curiously. Even though his marriage with Lissa had somewhat tempered his fear of women, he still kept a healthy distance away from her as he tended to Luci’s sting. They hadn’t spoken much since the tournament in Ferox.

“What do you think of bees?” he asked suddenly.

Lucina blinked. "I don't think about them often," she confessed.

"But you like them?"

"Not particularly."

He raised a brow. “Why not?"

"Well," she began. She took a deep breath. "I mean, they’re only tools for putting food on the table. They’re great workers, but they exhaust their lives laboring over a teaspoon of honey. Thousands of bee-hours are stolen for trivial things that ease our lives at the expense of theirs – desserts, candles, lotions, and the like."

This time, both brows were raised. "And?"

"And they’re much more sexist than you think -" She ignored Luci's confused expression and forged ahead. "The females do most of the work and the males do very little. And there's the queen, who -"

"- Is there a princess bee?" asked Luci eagerly.

" - is condemned as a larvae machine. Bees are too human for my taste," she concluded. Privately, she remembered that she said she didn’t care much about bees.

To her absolute surprise, Lon’qu’s lips cracked into a small smile. “Your mother said the same thing to me when I caught her smoking out a hive with a fire tome during the war. This was after she stopped throwing figs at me,” he added gruffly as though it needed explaining.

Lucina supposed that this was Lon’qu’s roundabout way of saying that he missed Robin too, even if he’d rather deny it outright. Her mother had always said that he would have never found the courage to propose to Lissa if she hadn’t pelted him with figs when he joined the army. But still, Lucina was surprised. He was a part of their family now, and this was the most that she had ever heard him talk before.

“Your mother was struggling to convince the court to strike down some child labor laws after the Plegian war. She remembered the bees and began to study them. She said that they helped her understand how Ylisse's court functions. I suppose the rest is history.”

“Yes,” said Lucina. “Are there still bees in her hives? I’d love to see them.”

Lon’qu’s neck flushed red. “I watch them from time to time.”

The clock tower struck two and he motioned to take his leave. "Time for Owain’s sword session.” He nodded curtly at them and headed to the barracks.

“He’s weird,” said Luci after he was gone. “I gave him a hug one time and he almost fainted. But he helped me today and he’s okay. What’s wrong with him?”

Lucina rolled her eyes. “You were screaming so loud, of course he helped you.”

"But I still want Auntie Lissa to heal my arm."

"I can do that," said Lucina, picking her up. "Didn't you know I was a falcon knight during the war?"

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. We can look for mother's beehive when we're done."

Luci shook her head. "I don’t wanna."

"I'll be with you. Nothing's going to happen, I promise. Just don't go swatting bees when they see you."

"Then what do I do?"

"Stay still and wait until they're gone. They won't sting if you're not a threat."

"Okay, but you have to promise to kill it if it comes near me."

"Alright, Luci."

 

* * *

 

Hours later, they entered the gardens at dusk. Lucina lit a lantern and pulled Luci's shawl closer to her shoulders. Her bee sting was nicely healed. It was carefully wrapped in a pink bandage for good measure.

Robin had three studies in the castle. There was one that she shared with Chrom near the council chambers where they planned the expedition to Valm and the attack on the Plegian capital. She also had a private study in the barracks where she kept all her maps, and a personal one in the gardens reserved for her bees.

Lucina pushed the door open and placed the lantern on the table. The study was more of a cottage than anything, a retreat away from the chaos in the castle and the clamor from the barracks.

The main room was a large oaken square with a stone fireplace on one end and a massive writing desk on the other. In the middle, there was a plushy couch topped with a mess of throws where Robin liked to sleep when she burned the midnight oil.

Lucina was pleased to see that everything had been immaculately preserved. Everything save for the flowers wilting in a porcelain vase was exactly where Robin had left it before she died. When they arrived, Lucina half-expected to see her mother stand and greet them. She struck a match and lit a fire in the fireplace, rubbing her hands together to keep warm.

Once Luci entered the room, she bounced on the couch and snuggled into the furs. "I like it here, can we have a slumber party?"

"We're here to see the bees, remember?" reminded Lucina. "Uncle Lon’qu said he's been taking care of them for mother. Seeing them is the least we can do to show our thanks."

"Fine," muttered Luci grudgingly. "Where are they?"

The observation hive was fixed to the west wall facing the glass doors. From ahead, it resembled a large block of wood, but its sides were sliding panels that concealed the hive teeming with bees.

Lucina pulled it forward to reveal a thin, glass-fronted beehive. The comb was thick in the middle and dripping with honey. A blanket of yellow and black coated the whole thing and the hive was alive with energy even though it seemed as if its occupants were milling about aimlessly.

"They're not going to hurt you. See?" Lucina tapped the glass. "Mother cared for them very much."

Luci peered into the glass and pulled a face. "Is that the same as the honey I eat for breakfast?"

"Yup."

"And the candles in the chapel?"

"The very same wax."

"And how come the bees are always near my flowers?"

"To pollinate them. Pollinating creates different colored flowers and it makes sure that your flowers will have seeds before it dies."

Her lips formed a tiny 'o' of wonder. "So that's where seeds come from?"

"That's right. And it's not just your flowers, either. The bees do the same to the vegetables in the vegetable gardens and the fruit trees in the orchard."

"Even squash? I hate squash." But still, she was fascinated by their fuzzy little bodies, their quick, jerky movements across the glass.

"Squash too," said Lucina, stroking her hair. “Luci, do you remember what happened to the bee after it stung you?”

“Nope,” said Luci viciously. “And I don’t care.”

“It died, Luci. A bee’s life force is attached to its stinger and once it’s gone, the bee dies with it.”

“Then how come it stung me?” she demanded.

“Because you threatened it. It’s much more afraid of _you_ than you are of it. People are quite big compared to bugs.”

“I wasn’t going to kill it,” Luci said, but then she caught herself. “I mean – not right away. I’d let it fly so it has a fair chance.” She blushed.

The conversation was veering too off-course. “Imagine a world without bees. What would happen?”

“I’d never have to eat squash again,” said Luci pointedly.

“We can’t go killing bees every time we see them, or else we wouldn’t have any vegetables to eat. If there aren’t any vegetables for the livestock to eat, then all the cows and pigs would starve and die. And if that happens, then the farmers have to sell their land to make a living and then _we_ would starve and die.” She let that sink in for a moment.

There wasn’t much of an outward indication that Luci was hanging onto her every word, but she knew she was paying attention. Her eyes were fixed on the queen in the middle of the swarm.

After a pause, Lucina asked, “Do you still hate bees?"

"Yes, but I guess they’re okay if mummy liked them." Luci pressed her nose to the glass and made faces at the workers crawling over the comb.

A compromise had been reached, and Lucina would have to settle for a lesson half-learned. Now that the bees were deemed valuable and harmless, Luci’s attention was diverted elsewhere.

There were stacks of Robin’s personal notebooks lining the shelves behind the writing desk. Luci climbed onto the chair and pulled one out. The pages were heavy with ink. Inside were discourses comparing hive management to Post-Marthian theocracies and the economies of war-ravaged civilizations.

“Mummy’s penmanship is messier than daddy’s,” said Luci, enthralled.

“How can you tell it’s Mother’s?”

Luci twirled a dried flower between her fingers. “It’s a bookmark.” She flipped through the pages and ran her hands down the lines, down the messy scrawls containing her mother’s thoughts.

Understanding dawned and Lucina’s heart twisted. Luci used dried flowers for bookmarks as well. “Want me to read it to you?” she offered. “I can’t guarantee that we’ll understand what Mother was thinking at the time, but if it’s boring, it’ll put you to sleep.”

With a small yawn, Luci nodded and they plopped themselves onto the couch, nodding off once the last flickering tinders of the hearth smoked into the cold, spring air.

The next morning, Luci reclined on a grassy knoll and rested her chin on her hands. Not far, Lucina lay sprawled on a picnic blanket under a parasol. They were shaded by a small thicket of trees outside the castle walls, nearing the forest bordering Ylisstol and the Feroxi mountains above.

Luci sat and waited.

Her patience was rewarded when a bumblebee whizzed by and bounced over the daisies swaying in front of her. It was markedly different from the honeybees in Robin's study, massive to a frightening degree. This bee had a stout, pot-bellied body and its wings were a glossy, translucent black. The bumblebee buzzed furiously over the flowers, hovering for a split second before resting on the stamen to collect its fill of pollen.

Quietly, Luci put out a finger to stroke its fuzzy body without disturbing it. It felt surprisingly soft, like the fur trim on Mister Bun’s waistcoat. It lay perfectly still. After a moment, it flew away towards the meadows blooming past the beaten trail towards Southtown.

“It’s not so scary,” she said, giggling at Lucina’s horror-stricken expression. “Big sis, would you touch one?”

Lucina shivered. The roach that Morgan had found in the barracks was terrifying in its own right, but it paled in comparison to the bumblebee. Those were lethal. “No, because I don’t have a death wish,” she said, scowling.

“But you said they help my flowers,” insisted Luci, delighted with how the tables had turned. “Mummy says that they’re like the pro-le-tar-iat.”

That word was much too big for her. “Yes, they’re harmless individually, but they gather strength in numbers. _That_ bee would have done more than stung you.”

Luci shrugged. “I’m not scared of them anymore ‘cause mummy wasn’t and they help my flowers.” She turned on her back, soaking up the morning sunbeams with a small smile on her face. “Big sis, are you mad at me?”

Lucina propped herself up on her elbows. “I’m a little annoyed,” she said honestly. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“Wanna hear something that Brady told me?”

"What?”

“It’s better to be pissed off than pissed on,” Luci replied primly.

“I don’t even know where to begin with that,” grumbled Lucina, turning on her side.

When a soft gust of wind blew through the meadow, Luci tied her bonnet tighter under her chin. “It’s nice and warm outside, isn’t it?”

Luci managed to talk herself out of trouble once again. She hadn’t been stung and she probably didn’t learn her lesson either. The appeal to flowers had boosted Luci’s appreciation of bees, but she still wanted them dead if she didn’t take the first initiative to approach them.

The pollen-laden scent of summer was heavy on the wind, and the sunbeams hung over Lucina’s back like a heavy quilt. It was rather hard to find a reason to be mad as she watched the clouds roll through the sky.  

“The days are just packed, aren’t they, Big sis?”

Lucina sighed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “They sure are.”

 

* * *

 

The weeks swept by like the leaves on the garden trellis, quiet, subtle and nothing extraordinarily different from the daily humdrum of everyday life in the castle. Luci planted a new batch of morning glories after the success of the first and this time, they were magenta. Roger II bloomed splendidly in the garden and even attracted some ladybugs.

But there was something foul stewing in the air - something foul had been stewing for quite some time and it had everything to do with the toy sword clasped in Luci’s hand and the frown on Lucina’s face.

“Again, Luci. Back straight and relax. Try aiming for the four this time.” She kicked her feet into position and pointed at the dummy. “Go, on. Why aren’t you doing anything?”

Luci twirled on her tiptoes and waved the wooden sword like a baton, trying to catch the dust particles caught in the afternoon light. “I don’t wanna hurt it,” she sang. “See? It’s smiling, so I can’t or else I’d be mean.”

Sadly, they had to use the only dummy in working condition and it was the one put through the most artistic abuse by Donnel and Ricken.

Lucina facepalmed. “Luci, you’re not going to hurt it! Goodness, you’ve been acting like such a clown since you woke up!”

“I’m not a clown,” she said indignantly. “Clowns aren’t people.”

“Luci, they’re people under their costumes.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Well, if you insist. Pretend it’s a clown and aim for the four.”

After more several minutes of coaxing, Luci leaned forward and gave the dummy a delicate prod to the stomach. It teetered to its side with a pathetic creak. “There. I wanna go play with Owain now.”

“Luci, please take this seriously. When you’re Exalt, you must to learn how to fight so you can protect the halidom like Father.”

“No, I don’t! The hierarch said that Aunt Emmy didn’t have to!”

Lucina flinched. “ _Emmeryn_ was a different case.” She struggled to keep her voice even.

“You’re making me use that stupid sword! It’s not gonna work! I’m tired of this!” She threw the sword and it fell to the floor with a pathetic thud. “I give up!”

“That’s not a choice you can make,” said Lucina stiffly. “It’s your duty as a princess of Ylisse to uphold the ancient laws set forth by our ancestors to spread peace across the halidom.”

“Then I won’t be a princess anymore! I’ll be a clown, not a soldier!”

Her color rose. “Luci, I’m not teaching you how to be a soldier. When you’re older, you will test your strength against Falchion...”

But she wasn’t listening. Luci took up the toy sword and struck it against Lucina’s shin with a surprising amount of force. Startled, Lucina tried to dodge, but she tripped, too astonished to be angry.

“IS YLISSE SAFE NOW?” cried Luci through her tears. She hit her again, but weakly this time. “I HATE THAT STUPID SWORD, STOP _TALKING_ ABOUT IT!”

“What in the goddess’s name is happening here?” demanded Chrom. He stood in the open doorway in his traveling clothes. He only raised his voice a little, but the effect was startling.

“Father?” gasped Lucina. “When did you get back?”

Luci paled and dropped the sword like a hot potato. “She’s making me use that stupid sword! I don’t wanna do it and she’s making me!” She ran forward to hug Chrom’s leg, but he was implacable.

His tone was grim. “Perhaps you two don’t get along as well as I’ve been led to believe. Lucina, are you forcing the sword on your sister?”

“I’m not forcing her to learn, she’s just afraid -”

“Yes, she is!” cried Luci vehemently. “She is, and I can prove it!”

“Lucina, I’d like a word with you,” he said quietly.

Luci began to wail, “I didn’t do anything wrong! That’s not fair!”

“I never said you weren’t in trouble,” said Chrom evenly. “But I was talking to your sister.”

“Father?” asked Lucina, aghast.

“Go to your room, Luci.”

“But -”

“ _Now_.”

As Luci stormed out of the barracks, Chrom turned to Lucina with a stony expression. “Lucina, are you out of your mind? She’s just a child!” He raised his voice, but paused when he heard footsteps. “Come. We’ll speak somewhere else.”

Lucina’s feet led her to the gardens, towards the trellis blooming with morning glories.

To her absolute shock, Chrom aged fifteen years in the span of just one. Constant traveling and politicizing took its toll on his health and he looked like half the warrior he was at the time of Grima’s defeat.

But he seemed perfectly happy to let her stew in her malcontent. “Frederick mentioned something about flowers,” he said absently, fingering a blue petal with his thumb.

The fire was gone, the rage from moments before vanished and was replaced with defeated resignation. After a pause, he said, “Lucina, would you say that you and Luci are the same person? And by that, I mean when you were her age.”

“We share the same brand, the same hair, and -”

“- That’s not what I meant," he interrupted, shaking his head. "All of that is on the surface - I want to know if you consider yourself similar in temperament and circumstance.”

She blinked, her mind taking her back to the swarms of Risen storming the castle in her timeline. “Of course not. She’s growing up in a different time.”

He nodded. "Luci’s world is limited by the castle’s confines. She only knows peace, the war in Valm never spread beyond Port Ferox. It's a mistake to assume that she'd take to something as martial as swordplay as quickly as we must have when we were young. As far as she knows, Grima is just a myth."

Lucina didn't say a word.

"I want her to be a child. She'll spend a few more years in fairyland before she takes to the sword, and it'll come to her. I'm certain of it."

"I don't understand."

He gave her an odd look. "The Risen are gone, Lucina. Ylisse's only threats come from within our borders and the lords outside. Our biggest challenge is reconstruction - ensuring that the crops are plenty and the smallfolk can sleep safely - that is our biggest priority. She's a child, Lucina. She's not going to lead a crusade once she's six."

Lucina felt ridiculous. She opened her mouth to speak, but she grappled for the right words. Instead, she looked at Chrom helplessly. "I need her to be safe," she croaked. "What if she's all alone, and none of us are left -"

There were three empty chairs at Luci's birthday dinner. One for Chrom, one for Morgan, and one for Robin. "This time is different," said Chrom, eyes wide with understanding. He grasped Lucina's shoulders and he shook her reassuringly. "I failed you once in your future, and I will _not_ allow myself to make the same mistakes again."

Lucina longed to tell him that he was. Little Luci needed him home, she needed to know that he was safe, that she had one constant in her life that would stay and promise to never leave when the nightmares wouldn't go away.

Thinking about Chrom’s repeated absences brought back the familiar ache from Lucina’s own childhood. The memories squeezed her chest just as badly as they did when she was Luci’s age. Lucina from future past was an orphan who lost her father before she earned her sword, a girl who lost her mother when she needed her most.

"I know of two types of strength, Lucina," he said, absorbing her silence. "There's the strength to have courage, having the courage to pick up your sword when you know you've lost, but you do it anyway. That's the strength that I saw from you on the battlefield and it's the same strength you had to trust your mother when all hope was gone."

Lucina blanched at the memory.

"I hoped you'd learn the second when you met Luci. There's strength in having the courage to tuck Luci in at night not knowing what horrors tomorrow will bring. Reading her stories and not knowing whether or not I will be back in one piece, pretending that all is well when in reality, it isn't. Growing flowers when there's nothing but death outside the castle walls." He gestured at the trellis. "She needs someone to remind her that she can be a child living a normal life when the world around her is in ruins."

A heavy silence hung between them. Chrom ran a hand through his hair, clearly reluctant to say what was on his mind. "When I was younger, I learned the sword because I was angry. My relationship with my father wasn't an ideal one. I loved him and I suppose I love him still, but his name was a curse among the smallfolk. He waged a war against Plegia for fifteen years, the very same one that cost your Aunt Emm her life years after it ended."

Her face flushed hot with shame.

"Lucina, I am not the person I am today without the people I love. You, Lissa, Frederick, Emm, and -” His voice cracked. “I wanted you to teach Luci how to be happy. And more so, her to you. I want you to teach her what her mother cannot.”

“Do you mean to say she’ll never come back?” asked Lucina, white in the lips.

His hesitance told her that he wasn't ready to answer that question. "I...I haven't given up on her and I never shall. But venturing beyond Ylisstol has shown me the peace Emmeryn and -" His eyes grew misty. He couldn't say her name and Lucina couldn't bear to hear it. The grief was still too near. "Well, the world of peace that they gave their lives for.”

He offered her a smile when she didn't respond, but it came out as more of a pained grimace. “The women in our family have a bad habit of becoming martyrs. I won’t have you become one for Luci’s sake. Not when she’s just six.”

A cool breeze swept through the gardens and something more than a chill ran down Lucina’s spine. Her resolve threatened to crack, but there were still questions that needed answering. "Father, then why does Luci hate Falchion? Whenever I wear it, she -"

He grimaced. "That's my fault, I suppose. I got carried away with horseplay and she scraped her shin on the crossguard. She’s hated it ever since. It's a bit sharp, you know."

The tears streaking down Lucina’s face told showed that for all her bravado, she was little more than a child herself. A child that he tasked with mothering a daughter he couldn’t raise. He couldn’t fault her for channeling her grief through the sword; they were all grieving, but in different ways.

It was a heavy burden for her to carry.

“Lucina, is it so impossible to fathom a world of peace?”

“Yes!” she cried. Chrom blinked, taken aback by her outburst. “Father, it’s not over. It’ll never be over until she comes back.”

The dam broke and she staggered into his arms, once again the child grieving for a phantom who might have never existed.

 

* * *

 

 

_Buckets of torrential rain beat upon Lucina’s back as she dug Emmeryn’s muddy grave in the Plegian Wastes. When her shovel broke, she used her nails to claw at the rocks._

_Somewhere in the midst of all the madness, when Plegian army pursued Chrom and the Shepherds in their escape, Lucina dragged Emmeryn’s body out of the fray before it could be desecrated._

_Blinding white bolts of lightning forked off a tree creaking in the wind and the air sizzled with ozone. For the briefest moment, Emmeryn’s serene expression flashed in the dark with striking clarity. A dry sob caught in Lucina’s throat and she continued to dig._

_Emmeryn’s beauty had been of the earth, a subtle, quiet radiance that beautified everyone it fell upon. But death sanctified it, brought forth the delicate linings that hinted what life, love, and great wisdom would have done to her in the golden years of womanhood and old age._

_She wore the visage she was meant to have and would never live the life to see. If it weren’t for the slight dips and protrusions her crumpled body, Lucina would have thought that she was dozing off in the rain._

_Lucina slipped in the mud and landed on the flat of her sword. She ducked when a monstrous clap of thunder boomed forth from the heavens and she rolled to her side, nearly swooning from the effort to pull herself together_

_“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry."_

Lucina awoke doused in a cold sweat.

Another clap of thunder rattled her windows in the castle and she groped her way through the darkness to close it shut. The wind howled and slammed the shutters against the wall, creating an ungodly cacophony that added another layer of chaos to the raging storm. She covered her head. The logical part of herself recognized that the fear of thunderstorms was not a rational fear, it was something stronger. It was primal: a terror lodged deep within her limbic system that roused a nightmare she hoped she’d forgotten.

“Big sis, I’m cold.”

Lucina sucked in a sharp gasp and whipped around. The monster about to tear her limbs asunder was her younger sister. She held that ridiculous stuffed bunny in her elbow.

“Lucina, are you scared of thunder?”

“No,” she lied. With a small shake of her head, she crossed the floor and shut the window before the last booming crack of thunder could echo through her bones.

“Well, I am and I can’t sleep,” mumbled Luci, climbing atop the bed.

“Do your maids know you’re here?”

“Nope.”

Lucina facepalmed, but didn’t matter if Luci woke up grumpy the next morning; she trusted her now and that was a precious gift. “Well, alright,” she conceded. She pulled the covers off and patted the empty space right next to her.

As they snuggled in the dark, Lucina stole a look at the scab on Luci's shin. The dark purple bruise was as much of a battle scar as the wounds criss-crossing her own back. It was a mistake to equate physicality on the battlefield with strength of heart. If Luci never showed an aptitude for swordplay, then that was okay. During peacetime, it takes more steel than what can be found in a sword to rally the strength of the people. Having courage and being kind wasn't a meaningless platitude when Emmeryn reigned because she showed that it was true.

When she finally mustered the courage, Lucina asked timidly, “Luci, can you forgive me?”

“About Falchion? Daddy says I can’t call him stupid anymore.”

Lucina rolled her eyes. “Yes, about Falchion.”

“Yup,” she nodded. “You’re forgiven.”

“Why?” asked Lucina hoarsely. “I wasn’t being very fair to you.”

“I know...but you can be mad at someone and still love them, right?” She turned and pressed a wet kiss on Lucina’s nose. “Can we check on Roger in the morning? I’m scared the rain’s gonna blow him away.”

Lucina was dumbstruck, overcome by a rush of affection for her sister. Only children and drunkards could forgive so easily without a second thought, but she supposed that being siblings came with certain liberties. She drew their nest of blankets closer and nodded sleepily. “Of course,” she murmured and felt safe.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, Lucina gulped great lungfuls of cool morning air and stretched her limbs. A thin layer of mist covered the sky above, casting the castle grounds in a glaring silver light. When the sun managed to sneak a few rays through a small part in the clouds, it cast sharp beams of light upon the gardens, giving the morning a rather sanctified aura.

Luci bounced at her heels, muddying the hem of her nightgown as she hummed a small tune.

“Luci, be careful. The trail is slippery.”

The mockingbirds’ early service sung a sweet melody in Lucina’s heart. The trellis was relatively unscathed from the storm. Vibrant shades of blue, violet, and magenta were brilliant in the morning light like paint against a blank canvas.

The flowers were bruised from the heavy rainfall, but Luci didn’t seem to mind. They had exactly ten minutes before the castle woke from its slumber, but for now, the moment was theirs.

“Yesterday, Auntie Sumia said to cut flowers with long stems so they last longer, but my morning glories don’t have long stems, so I can’t do that,” Luci babbled.

Lucina hummed something in response.

“D’you think Roger almost drowned last night? I don’t have to water him this morning.” She skipped into puddle after puddle with reckless abandon.

A pair of footsteps drew near. “Oh, hullo. Why’re you two up so early?” asked a familiar voice.

“Morgan?”

“Morgan!” Luci squealed and she rushed to hug her brother.

Morgan was winded by the impact, but he hugged her back all the same. “You’re the same as ever, huh?”

But Lucina couldn’t say the same about him. He traded his tactician’s coat for a practical leather jerkin and she had to wonder - was he still Morgan without the Plegian coat? He stood a head taller and there was a thin, rugged air about him. He seemed wild.

“Lucina and I planted morning glories! They’re over here -”

“Khan Basilio sends his regards,” he said cordially, making a conscious effort not to look at Lucina. “He wants you to champion him at the next tournament. See ya later.” He pulled Luci’s arms off his waist and trudged to the castle.

“Why’s he such a grump?” demanded Luci.

Lucina watched his receding figure with a heavy heart.

 

* * *

 

 

A few days later, Lucina hauled an armful of flower books across the Great Hall. A wilting chain of morning glories was draped around her neck.

Luci skipped at her side. “Big sis, can griffons swim?”

“Not well, the water weighs their wings and they can’t fly.”

“Then what happens when it rains?”

“They take shelter under the trees and rest until the storm’s over. Could you help me carry a few of these books?”

“Can griffons make nests?” She ignored her last question.

“Wild griffons make nests in the mountains, but domesticated ones reside in the aviary outside of Ylisstol.”

“What about pegasuses?” Luci stumbled over this word with a slight lisp and muttered it under her breath several times.

“ _P_ _egasi_ , Luci.”

“Who’s the pretty lady over there?” Luci yanked Lucina’s sleeve and pointed. Lucina’s heart dropped.

At the end of the hall, Morgan and Chrom supported a slight figure dwarfed by a heavy overcoat. The woman gazed at her daughters with a dazed, misty look in her eyes.

Lucina dropped the books cradled in her arm and all the color left her cheeks.

“ _Mother_.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the dead of the night, Lucina slipped her mended mask over her eyes and saw a stranger gazing back at her in the mirror.

Her things were neatly packed away, but she never kept much to begin with. Her hands trailed over the things Luci left strewn around her bed - the bunny, the flower books, a toy sword. They chained her to Ylisstol, the small ring of teeth marks around her finger, the way Luci liked to braid her hair before she slept.

It wouldn’t do to tempt the Divine Dragon’s mercy now that Robin was back from the dead, and Lucina quietly knew that her story had finally come to its end. Their relationship was unnatural; aside from the whole time travel conundrum, a sister raising a sister was no substitute for a mother who had finally come home. 

Would they leave an empty chair for her as well when she was gone? Leaving was the only certainty in her mind, but she couldn’t help but wonder.

_In the garden, a long table was placed under a bower of morning glories. There was a tiny furrow in Luci’s brow as she picked at her birthday cake. From behind, Chrom placed a worn golden circlet on the crown of her head._

_"This belonged to the bravest girl I knew," he says with a sad smile. "Do you know who it is?"_

_But this time, Luci shakes her head. "I don't know who you're talking about."_

Lucina shuddered, dispelling the thought from her mind.

She crept into Luci’s chambers to say goodbye. Luci slept on her stomach, long fans of lashes fluttering an excruciating tickle at her cheek. Lucina turned her right side up and her buttoned eyes didn't open, but she smiled.

"Tricked you! I can't sleep," she giggled.

The spell was broken. Lucina groaned. "Luci, I put you down half an hour ago."

“That wasn’t right now?” she asked, perplexed.

“No.”

"Oh. I have to ask you a question. Daddy said you come from the future," she said solemnly. "Is it true?"

There was no use in lying about it. "That's right."

"Lucina, what's the future? Is it tomorrow?"

"Weell," said Lucina. She picked Luci up and set her on her lap on the rocking chair. It creaked softly. "I can't tell you what the future is. Once tomorrow comes, it's not tomorrow anymore."

"Then what is it?"

"It's today."

Her brows knitted together. "Are you playing games with me?" she asked accusingly, as though now was not the time to be playing games.

"I am," she said, laughing softly. Luci rested her head against her sister's chest and sighed.

"Well, it's not funny because I didn't get it," she huffed quietly. "Lucina, where are you going?"

Her throat constricted. "Going? What makes you think that?" she asked, but her resolve cracked.

Children can spot evasion quicker than most adults and Luci was no exception. "You're not wearing the flower chain I made you," she said matter-of-factly.

"Well," Lucina said after a pause. She stared at the open doorway as though it held all the secrets to the universe. "Aren't you going to ask me not to leave?"

"No."

"No?"

"I love you, of course you're not gonna leave."

Her throat caught. “Luci...haven’t you ever wondered why we have the same brand, the same name, and the same hair?”

“No,” she said bluntly.

“Why not?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Because you’re _you_ and I’m _me_. We look the same, but we’re not the same.”

“Luci,” she said insecurely, but she decided to be honest. “I’m afraid of what might happen to your future if I stay.”

“But why is the future so important? You said you don’t know what the future is.”

For some inexplicable reason, Lucina couldn’t tell her why she must fade out of her life, why she feared uncertainty, craved absolutes. She knew what tomorrow would bring if she left the castle, but she could never predict what would happen if she stayed.

“I don’t know,” she said numbly.

“Lucina, what about right now? Isn’t right now important? What about...” But Luci became inarticulate in her effort to explain mankind’s most intrinsic mystery.

After a pause, Luci collected her thoughts. “I think right now is all I need,” she sighed, inclining her head further into Lucina’s arms.

_Big sis, you’re giving the future too much credit. Take a moment to look at the flowers and change your fate again, with me. I love you. Please stay, stay with me..._

Lucina rocked her sister gently in her lap and ran her finger down the jagged mend line on her mask. She turned her eyes to the night sky, and for the first time in her life, the moon did not tug at her heart as it had always done before. Something else anchored her to the earth, pulled her head out of the future and into the now.

The center of her universe snored softly in her arms, lulled to sleep by the rocking chair’s gentle motions.

Lucina tossed the mask out the window and decided to plant bluebells in the morning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am such a huge fan of long oneshots after reading @chanyeol's iwaoi fics (if you like haikyuu, then please read their stories, it's been 3 weeks since I finished them all and I am still Shook) 
> 
> I'm taking this opportunity to plug my new fic, After the Dust Settles, a fic about the Awakening trio in Nohr during Birthright. If you're waiting for an update on Glass Slipper, I'M SO SORRY! That fic isn't dead, it's still in editing hell, and the plan is to publish it before I end break.
> 
> EDIT: SOBS LOUDLY thank you so much to everyone who left such lovely feedback, I appreciate all of your kind words. I always go back here to motivate myself whenever I'm feeling down with my writing.


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